


unwind

by tattletold



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Comeplay, Dom/sub, Face-Sitting, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Time Skip, Rimming, dom!ferdinand, just a lot of filth, sub!hubert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 16:44:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20642399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tattletold/pseuds/tattletold
Summary: Hubert has to have some kind of outlet to alleviate the stress of working for the Emperor. Sometimes a man just has to let go of his control and relax.Luckily, he has a very willing lover.





	unwind

**Author's Note:**

> so picture this. hubert but he's on the bottom. thank you for your consideration.
> 
> yeah this is just straight up filth that's really it

Being the Minister of the Imperial Household by itself bears a lot of responsibility, not even taking into consideration all the other work Hubert does. He is a spymaster, a retainer, a bodyguard and an informant and general, and even though the war is long over, the amount of work he must settle hasn’t lightened in the slightest. In fact, his load has probably only gotten heavier, what with all the specifics of the new united Fodlan needing to be determined.

Day in and day out with little to no respite, Hubert slaves over documents and difficult politicians. He doesn’t have any room to complain, not when he willingly takes on each task with such efficiency and dedication that nobody would hope to alleviate the work from him--but it doesn’t take away from the sheer  _ amount _ of work he’s left with at the end of the day. Very rarely has he ever taken more than an hour away from his tasks to enjoy tea with his less-busy-but-still-equally-exhausted lover. The time he has with Ferdinand in the courtyard drinking coffee are the only breaks he takes in his days with otherwise unending hours.

The nighttime, however, is a different story.

It’s only the muscled thighs on either side of Hubert’s head that block out the memory of some merchant’s drawn out prattling. He clings to them, relishing in the way they tense against his jaw with every subtle move of Hubert’s mouth. The only downside to his position is that the noises coming from the man above him are muted by tanned thighs until Hubert almost can’t hear each ‘ _ oh _ ’ each ‘ _ yes _ ’ each ‘ _ darling _ ’ pouring from Ferdinand’s slack lips.

But just  _ almost _ \--with each moan, he redoubles his efforts fucking his tongue up into Ferdinand’s entrance. His breath is hot against the skin of his ass and all Hubert can taste is their combined sweat as Ferdinand rocks his hips on top of him, chasing Hubert’s fervent lips and teeth that have bitten love marks all over his thighs. 

He wants so badly to reach up and grab his legs, to grip Ferdinand’s ass tight in his hands and hold him in place while he eats him out for hours on end. He could do it. They  _ have _ done it. But right now with his wrists securely tied to the bedpost, all Hubert can do is struggle and writhe underneath as his lover derives his own pleasure single handedly. Uses him. Hubert keens at the thought, moaning even as the only touch he receives is rough fingers in his hair.

This is how the Minister of the Imperial Household copes.

This is all it takes to keep him from working himself to death.

There is a strange sense of comfort he never identified with before in being… submissive, like this. He only discovered it when Ferdinand was particularly aggressive in their flirting one day, holding his wrists together in one hand and the moment he realized he actually couldn’t escape his hold, he was gone. With all the weight of the Empire’s affairs on his shoulders, being able to give up control and simply exist, floating along in pleasure and debauchery, is addictive. 

And Ferdinand does  _ such  _ a good job taking care of him.

Ferdinand finally sits up on his knees, and Hubert can’t help but feel disappointed at the loss as his lover scoots back to straddle his hips instead. He leans over Hubert with one hand propping him up by the side of Hubert’s head, face bright red and flushed. There’s a good amount of pride and satisfaction that comes with seeing Ferdinand so disheveled like this, his hair a mussed up mess, panting and hurriedly licking his fingers before his free hand travels down and--

They both moan at the same time, though for Hubert it’s more the sight of Ferdinand’s face contorting in pleasure as he slides a finger into himself. From this angle, he can’t see anything besides Ferdinand’s face and the chiseled planes of his torso, cock hard and dripping against Hubert’s abdomen. He watches Ferdinand rock his hips over him while letting out small moans that he draws from himself. The fabric of his constraints creak as Hubert struggles against them once more, yearning now for nothing more than to be the one knuckle deep in his lover--to think, he would feel jealous of Ferdinand himself for being inside of him.

“Stop that, Hubert, that is--ah, one of my good cravats,” Ferdinand says above him, though Hubert focuses more on the bead of sweat rolling down his neck with an intense stare. “I do not want you to tear it.”

“What would you do if I ripped it?” Hubert asks contrarily.

Ferdinand’s hand stops, his eyes narrowing at the older man smirking deviously up at him. The hand by his head swiftly moves to grab his wrists instead in a much tighter, not so comfortable grip. Hubert inhales sharply through his nose. “Then I will be forced to hold you like this instead.”

“That is not the worst--”

“And take care of myself alone.”

Now that’s the worst punishment Ferdinand could offer. Hubert immediately quiets, trying to ignore the breathy laugh that comes from Ferdinand’s lips. The noise is quickly replaced by another moan as his wrist finally moves again and all Hubert can do is watch, breathing deeply through his nose to maintain some semblance of calm while his lover takes his own pleasure above him. Ferdinand is a  _ dream _ , hair stuck to his face with sweat, his wide shoulders trembling, and his face contorted in a look of bliss that only Hubert is allowed to witness. 

He wants to touch him. He wants to hold him and give him that pleasure with his own hands, to take care of him and pull more of those sacred noises from his mouth, all for him. On any other night, that is exactly what he would do, long into the wee hours of the night. But tonight is different; tonight is for  _ Hubert _ . And this is what he wants.

This waiting.

This torture.

This lack of control.

Hubert wets his chapped lips with his tongue, practically starry eyed as he watches Ferdinand from below.

It’s  _ delicious _ .

Ferdinand removes his hand with a slick sound and sighs on top of him. His hands drag up Hubert’s sides, thumbs pressing into his chest as he lowers his hips to grind down against his cock. Hubert thinks that if he had dragged it on any longer, he could’ve come right then and there.

“What do you want, Hubert?” Ferdinand asks in a gravelly voice, obviously not immune to his own ministrations. As much as these nights are for Hubert, it isn’t as if Ferdinand loses anything at all.

Hubert doesn’t hesitate. “You.”

“How?”

“However you would please.”

The answer makes Ferdinand’s lips curl up into a devious grin, one that doesn’t often leave the bedroom, certainly for no one else. He takes little time in slicking Hubert’s cock with the same oil coating his fingers and grants Hubert mercy by not delaying their night any longer. He lifts back onto his knees, leaning heavily over Hubert until their foreheads are touching as he guides the older man’s length to his entrance. There’s barely any teasing before he’s sinking down, and Hubert tries to focus more on the furrow of Ferdinand’s brow than where they’re connected. If he were to watch his cock disappear inside of him, there’s no saying how long he’d last. 

Not for the first time, Hubert is momentarily left  _ breathless  _ with how taken he is with this man. Even though they were each other’s firsts in many ways, both the product of nobility’s strict social standards, he is entirely convinced that nobody could possibly suit him better than Ferdinand. It isn’t just his body (which is exquisite, no doubt) but how they work off each other, how Ferdinand will indulge him like this some nights and others beg for Hubert to take control. They rarely come to many disagreements when it comes to consummating their relationship. 

When Ferdinand’s ass finally falls flush against Hubert’s hips, he finally lifts his chin to stare down at him with a self-satisfied smile that makes the heat in Hubert’s stomach rise to a boil. He vaguely wonders what he looks like right now in Ferdinand’s eyes, tied up, disheveled and sweating, panting heavily just in an effort not to snap his hips up into his lover. Ferdinand is looking down at him with that smile that just tells him he’s a  _ mess _ , and it makes Hubert’s mouth dry.

“You are so… handsome, Hubert, my dearest,” he manages to say in a steady voice, pausing as he lifts his hips until only the head of Hubert’s cock remains inside of him. Ferdinand falls back down hard with a gasp and Hubert throws his head back. 

He’ll never tire of being inside Ferdinand, no matter how often they can be together now that there is peace. There’s no replicating his warmth, how tight he is, how delightfully worked up he can get until he devolves into an absolute  _ mess _ \--just like Hubert is now, his mind provides unhelpfully. His wrists strain against the silk tying him up.

“You are much more so… ah, Ferdinand, please…” Hubert says into the side of his bicep, unable to watch as Ferdinand works the two of them into a steady pace. Each grind, every roll of his hips and thrust is the work of months of practice between the two of them, learning the ins and outs of each other’s bodies. Which is to say, Ferdinand knows how to move  _ exactly _ how Hubert needs him.

Shaky laughter holds hands with a moan as Ferdinand tries to gather enough coherency to respond. “Please, what? Am I not giving you what you desire?”

After the last word, he drops himself hard onto Hubert, practically spearing himself open on the mage’s cock. Hubert can’t help but keen, his back arching and knees bending to try and somehow press closer, anything, deeper, into the incubus on top of him. Ferdinand lifts himself just enough that Hubert can snap his hips up and drive into him the way he needs, hard and fast and more frenzied than it is any pattern. Holding onto his shoulders, Ferdinand leans forward, eyes lidded as he’s pounded into without any semblance of restraint. It only takes a moment for Hubert to naturally find that spot that makes Ferdinand  _ shout _ , and Hubert lurches up to try and capture his mouth in a kiss.

The movement goes in vain. At once, Ferdinand pulls off of him, two strong hands pressing his shoulders down into the bed. Hubert’s always been taller than him, but right now as Ferdinand hunches over his lying figure, he’s never looked so… domineering.

“I told you not to move,” he says quietly.

Hubert’s skin prickles with goosebumps. The bastard had even  _ let  _ Hubert fuck him, and only now was going to admonish him for it? The words don’t come easy to him. He enjoys that part of this too, this discomfort that comes with being beneath somebody else, taken control  _ of _ by somebody else.

“...I’m sorry,” he breathes.

“For?”

“Disobeying.”

It’s how he might speak to a subordinate, maybe even a grunt who had messed up their orders from him. But Ferdinand is a much kinder general than he is, and he smiles at Hubert, using one hand to hold his chin as he lifts himself back up. His other hand reaches back to grab Hubert’s cock again, somehow feeling even harder than it was before.

“Behave--you know I will take care of you,” he says, voice softer than before. Hubert nods into his hand.

“...I know.”

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life.”

Ferdinand falls back down, spearing himself onto Hubert, and all he can do is dig his fingers into his palms in an effort to stay still. His toes curl and his abdomen clenches, wanting so desperately to return the pleasure Ferdinand bestows upon him. But he remains still this time, even biting his lip to keep control as Ferdinand puts those thighs chiseled well from horse riding to good use.

“Hubert,” Ferdinand says with a grunt. “Hubert, you must tell me when--when you are on the verge of finishing. You must say so.”

“I will,” Hubert breathes, barely a whisper before he’s biting back down onto his tongue. Truth be told, he’s already dangerously close, to the point where he shouldn’t even  _ look  _ at Ferdinand riding him for fear of coming too soon. He doesn’t want to deny his lover any of his own pleasure which, by the positively wanton noises spilling from his mouth with every drag and drop and thrust, is not without consideration. 

The idea of being held completely still beneath him, for Ferdinand to command and take from him however he pleased and having the threat of punishment looming over Hubert should he not comply--

Hubert lets out a low groan, unable to restrain himself any longer as that edge inches closer, pooling low between his legs. “Ferd… Ferdinand, I’m close,” he groans, the words coming by reflex more than coherent thought. It’s impossible to focus on anything besides that delicious heat surrounding him, constantly stroking him in just the right way that Ferdinand  _ knows _ will drive him crazy.

“You have,  _ ah _ , been good,” Ferdinand says, and Hubert is flooded with relief at the statement. “You can let go.”

He does. Finally, Hubert allows himself to open his eyes and is immediately overcome by the image before him. Ferdinand’s tanned skin is flushed red from exertion, all slick with sweat from bouncing on his hips as he quickens his pace to help draw Hubert to his finish. His mouth is slack with pleased gasps and moans that he takes for himself, and when he opens his eyes just enough to look down at him with that  _ smile _ , Hubert is gone.

His orgasm hits him like a wave, crashing onto him with each thrust down of Ferdinand’s hips, and he swears the man on top tightens himself to draw every last spurt of that heat out. He can no longer resist the temptation to jerk his hips up, slamming into Ferdinand’s ass with a low groan as he finds his release.

It takes a good minute for him to come down from the high, panting heavily and only just now aware of the ache in his arms from being held up in the same position this entire time. Ferdinand is still seated on top of him, and the feeling of him wrapped around Hubert’s softening cock is just almost overwhelming. Thankfully, he doesn’t move to overstimulate him and stares down at Hubert through half lidded eyes.

“You moved.”

Hubert feels all the sweat on his body instantly freeze. Only then does he notice that Ferdinand’s own cock is still standing straight at attention, leaking from the tip and probably aching to find his own release. He would do a lot to give him that pleasure--a  _ lot _ \--but something tells him the other already has something in mind. “...I… apologize.”

Ferdinand sighs, shaking his head as if he were legitimately disappointed (Hubert knows he isn’t, but it’s all for the game that they’ve created). “That makes two times tonight. I am beginning to think you do not truly trust me, Hubert. Did I not say I would take care of you?”

“No, I… I trust you, I was simply… careless.”

It is more difficult than he thought to be sincere when he is still so thoroughly sated, relishing in that gentle warmth that comes with orgasm.

That is, until Ferdinand lifts himself off of him and leans forward to tug his wrists free. He naturally winces as his dick falls back to his stomach, suddenly cold by the feel of the night air before the tie around his wrists come free. Cautiously, Hubert brings his hands down to his chest to rub feeling back into them, watching Ferdinand’s face for any sign of displeasure.

“Then turn around.”

“...Pardon?”

Ferdinand’s hand falls to grab Hubert’s hip, giving it a tug to show his intentions. “Turn on your other side--on your hands and knees.” He licks his lips, hesitating for a moment before he appears to gather the resolve necessary to add, “I won’t repeat myself.”

And oh, that does it for Hubert, just that twinge of a threat that makes his cock twitch painfully in interest. He complies without another moment’s hesitation. The role of a dominant, almost cruel lover in the bedroom does not come easily to Ferdinand, he knows, and it’s somewhat touching how hard he tries for Hubert’s sake. Once this play is over, Ferdinand will almost certainly fall to his side with those bright, puppy dog eyes that beg for forgiveness as if he had done anything besides what Hubert wanted. He would comfort Hubert and clean him gently, offering him drinks and food and all kinds of things Hubert would insist aren’t particularly necessary.

But for now, Ferdinand grabs his ass with two large hands and spreads Hubert open, diving between his cheeks to stick his tongue into his hole. Hubert immediately fists the bedsheets and just barely bites back the urge to rut his hips back into Ferdinand’s face, not expecting the action. “A-Ah… this is hardly… a  _ punishment _ ,” he says cheekily.

Ferdinand’s nails dig into his hips, biting marks that will certainly show purple in the morning. He doesn’t say anything, mouth occupied with the task at hand, and continues to eat Hubert out in earnest. His tongue is slow in its ministrations, just barely giving enough to keep arousal rebuilding in Hubert’s abdomen without actually giving  _ enough _ . It would be a tease if he wasn’t so eager to please Hubert in the first place.

At first, Hubert merely submits, allowing Ferdinand to do as he sees fit with the promise of more to come. Although it provides no relief, the tongue inside of him is still a gentle, steadily building pleasure that he certainly doesn’t hate.

By the time Hubert would usually stop if he were going down on the other, however, Ferdinand doubles down. He spreads Hubert wide with his thumbs, lapping at the outside of his hole before diving in with the same fervor he used to fuck himself on Hubert’s cock just minutes ago. It makes Hubert hang his head below his shoulders, toes curling every time he’s emptied and refilled.

Somewhere around fifteen minutes in, it becomes sweet, horrible torture. Hubert’s barely holding on as he’s worked open, already feeling sore from being manhandled for so long while those same sore spots are repeatedly stroked. At first, Ferdinand wasn’t that good at this, only learning from how much he loved it when Hubert did this for him. Part of Hubert wishes he had never let on how much he enjoyed being eaten out as well, probably even more than Ferdinand--but part of him wishes he’d never stop.

After such a strong orgasm, being brought so close to the brink with that simple arousal is painful in a way Hubert wishes he could enjoy forever while simultaneously begging for mercy. His hands clench in and out around the sheets beneath him as he struggles to stay still. There’s no telling what Ferdinand would do if he were to disobey his one simple order  _ again _ . It’s a warm limbo, an icy hell that’s deceptively inviting and pulls him further below the surface of sensibility and into depravity.

Ferdinand is a  _ vixen _ .

When he finally pulls away, Hubert nearly collapses onto the bed, only held up by his elbows. It takes all the effort in his body not to just fall down right there, but he pulls through. He knows it will all be worth it in the end, that Ferdinand  _ will _ take care of him as he promised. Anticipation stacks in his stomach like rocks and drives him dizzy with want.

The bed shifts beneath him as Ferdinand moves. “Suck on these,” he says, and Hubert opens his eyes to find Ferdinand’s fingers being held out in front of him. He leans forward to take them into his mouth without questioning it, not thinking anything out of the ordinary until they land on his tongue. The taste of cum is all too familiar at this point, and it gives Hubert pause--had Ferdinand gotten himself off after all? No, there’s no way he would simply relieve himself while eating Hubert out, and he certainly hadn’t come when he was riding him earlier.

Only one of them has gotten off tonight, and Hubert feels his cock twitch back to life in realization; it’s his own spend. That Ferdinand must have fingered himself to retrieve.

He sucks on the fingers in his mouth diligently, licking them clean as he coats them in saliva. They’re only removed from his mouth once they’re properly slick and drool drips from Hubert’s mouth. He doesn’t have a moment to prepare before they’re back at his entrance, pushing in where Ferdinand’s mouth had already made his hole soft. He inserts two at once and twists them in to reach where his tongue couldn’t.

Hubert keens. Ferdinand’s mouth had been soft when he went down on him, gently guiding him to delicious pleasure until it was painful. His fingers are nothing of the sort; Ferdinand sinks them in to the last knuckle immediately, pulling them out to pump steadily inside of Hubert. They’ve done this enough time for Ferdinand to know where his prostate his, and he just grazes it every now and then, giving small hints of sparks that Hubert isn’t even given the chance of chasing. He has to stay still, knuckles white in the sheets, toes curling behind him. A third finger joins the first two and a noise he can’t even identify comes from his mouth at the force Ferdinand uses to ram them inside of him. But he has to stay still.

He wants to follow the fingers when they leave him, suddenly feeling incredibly empty all at once. But he isn’t left waiting for long before he feels Ferdinand’s thighs press up against the backs of his and spread his knees wider to fit between. Something larger presses against his hole, and just as he thinks  _ when did Ferdinand oil himself _ ? It’s being pushed inside him.

The sensation will never be completely comfortable, as three fingers are nowhere near the size of his lover’s length. He grunts at the first intrusion, given no time to adjust or even make another noise as Ferdinand pulls his cock out--and slams it right back in, harder than the first. Hubert’s body lurches forward with the force, only kept up by the strong hands suddenly wrapped around his neck. They pull Hubert up off his elbows until he’s only on his knees and being pressed back against that warm, tanned chest.

The brush of Ferdinand’s orange hair does little to soothe him when the sex is so rough, though Hubert would have it no other way. He holds onto Ferdinand’s wrists at his neck, not being held tight enough to choke, but definitely being kept in place to be pounded into.

“Ferdinand--fuck! Fuck!” is all Hubert can manage to say coherently as he arches his back against the muscled man behind him. Ferdinand doesn’t falter in the slightest and presses his lips to the side of Hubert’s head in a kiss that feels more like a mockery for how brutally his hips are snapping into Hubert’s below, practically ravaging his insides.

“Is this what you wanted?” Ferdinand asks, breath hot and heavy in Hubert’s ear. Hubert moans at the strained edge in his voice, knowing Ferdinand must be enjoying himself as well. Enjoying Hubert’s body. Enjoying using him, while he does nothing but kneel and bear it, allowing him to take and take and  _ take _ as much as he wants. Handing him full control. Letting  _ go _ of his control.

Hubert nods his head a few times instead of speaking, not trusting his voice to come out properly with Ferdinand’s cock buried so deep inside of him. He grits his teeth instead. By now, Hubert’s returned to full arousal, though it certainly isn’t a comfortable erection after having just come a while ago. But even that pain is a good thing, a reminder of what’s already been done to him and how much power Ferdinand holds over him in these moments.

“Good… s’good…”

“Ah, Hubert, you are the picture of perfection,” Ferdinand says and punctuates the compliment with a hard thrust that leaves Hubert practically whimpering. “Come again, come for me.” One hand on his neck snakes down Hubert’s body, dragging down his chest and only making it to his abdomen before Hubert is throwing his head back against Ferdinand’s shoulder. His second orgasm is just as powerful as the first, momentarily blurring his vision with each wave of pleasure that courses through his veins. He doesn’t have to resist any temptation to press his hips back into Ferdinand, not while he’s still being pounded relentlessly through his high and letting him ride it out.

Ferdinand pulls out immediately this time, and while Hubert is still dazed, he’s easily turned and pushed down to the bed on his back. His cock hasn’t even begun to soften yet, still on the come down from his second orgasm when he feels Ferdinand push in again. He can’t help but bark out a pathetic noise when his oversensitive prostate is hit again.

“Can you do one more?” Ferdinand asks, already knowing the answer.

Hubert shakes his head. No words--not a yes, or a no--come to his lips, if he was even capable of speaking. But more important is the particular word they had decided on together that he doesn’t say, a safe word of sorts to tell Ferdinand when to lay off. It’s always in the back of his mind when they play like this, but Hubert hasn’t needed to use it once. Tonight is no different.

After giving pause for Hubert to respond if he needs, Ferdinand continues, hooking his hands underneath the taller man’s knees and folding them up to his chest. Hubert was considerably less flexible when they started dating. The only reason he’s able to be bent in half like this is how often he finds himself in this position, gradually growing more flexible until his knees are practically bouncing against his shoulders.

At least in this position, he can see Ferdinand’s face. Hubert keeps his eyes open the entire time, nonsensical moans pouring from his mouth as Ferdinand continues fucking him as if they’d never stopped. As if Hubert hadn’t just come for the second time and was verging on the brink of madness by how raw and painfully open he felt. Ferdinand is in no better shape, having waited this long edging himself along. His pace is frenzied and irregular at this point and Hubert can only assume it’s from exhaustion or coming close--or more likely a mixture of the two.

“Hubert, Hubert, sweet lover, you are exquisite.”

Ferdinand’s hands find his at either side of his head, folding their fingers together and pressing Hubert’s down into the bed. The sincerity in his words makes Hubert bite his lip. Somehow, it feels more intimate than anything they’ve done so far. Like Ferdinand doesn’t have him folded in half and isn’t fucking him like an animal.

“My darling, beloved, you feel so good, ah… by the  _ goddess  _ you are gorgeous--”

He says it so breathlessly while looking at him that Hubert almost feels  _ embarrassed _ . Ferdinand always becomes so sentimental when he’s close, and at this point, Hubert doesn’t care about roles or who is dominating who--all he can focus on is that tight buildup in his stomach and the chiseled masterpiece of a man on top of him right now. The entire world could fall apart around them, and for a moment, Hubert thinks he doesn’t care.

_ He doesn’t care. _

The third orgasm is nothing like the first two. It’s wrenched from Hubert’s body forcefully, bringing with it an aching pain that settles over his entire body. Ferdinand fucks him through it, abusing his already overstimulated prostate until he finally stills. Hubert can’t even recognize the feeling of his lover releasing inside of him, unable to even hear anything over the momentary ringing in his ears. The only way he knows he himself made a noise is how hoarse his throat feels afterwards.

It takes a while for him to settle down. By the time Hubert opens his eyes again, Ferdinand has untangled himself from his body and is walking back into the bedroom from the adjacent washroom. He carries a basin of water and towel at his hip, smiling when he meets Hubert’s eye.

“See something you fancy?” Hubert asks, voice thoroughly wrecked despite the cocky tone.

Ferdinand sits on the side of the bed by Hubert and wets the towel. With hands that are much more gentle than those that held him down and clasped his neck, Hubert sighs in relief as his sweaty body is wiped clean. “I must say, I am quite fond of whatever you wear or how you look when you seduce me, but nothing will ever be as alluring as you are now.”

Hubert rolls his eyes at the pretty words. “Hush, I do not want to hear how  _ alluring _ I am after coming three times. Do not touch me for another week.”

It’s a bluff, and they both know it. Ferdinand continues to smile as he spreads Hubert’s thighs and gingerly wipes in between. “Call me a fool, but I think you are most beautiful after being pleasured.”

“You are a fool,” Hubert says, reaching out to flick Ferdinand’s forehead. “A post-coital fool.”

“Ask me tomorrow, I will say the same for you and more.”

“Please, I have endured enough of your shamelessness for one night. Just come lay down, won’t you?”

Once Hubert has been cleaned and Ferdinand himself is wiped down with a quick towel down, he sets both rag and bowl aside. “I was going to make you tea--”

“You know I do not prefer it--”

“--but it’s too late to have coffee.”

“--but I merely want to sleep, and it is cold, and you are speaking far too much. Please just come to bed, my dear.”

There isn’t any arguing with that. Ferdinand offers him another smile before relenting, not even bothering to pick up any of his clothes from the floor as he crawls right back into bed. He finds his natural place easily in Hubert’s side and wraps an arm around his middle, pulling the mage in closer. It should be disgusting to be this close when they are both still so overheated from the night’s activities, but Hubert leans his cheek against the crown of Ferdinand’s head regardless. Long fingers lightly scratch at his bicep.

“Was… tonight good?” Ferdinand asks, voice quiet and hesitant.

“Very,” Hubert says instantly. He takes another moment to elaborate. “I… needed this. Work has been very stressful dealing with Almyra right now, and there is not anywhere else I can quite--”

“I understand, I know you do not enjoy talking about it much.”

He’s right, and Hubert is grateful to be cut off for once. 

Ferdinand’s cheek nuzzles closer into his shoulder as Hubert wraps an arm around his back. “I am glad as long as I can help relieve you of your stress in any way.”

“You mean you don’t get anything out of this arrangement?”

Ferdinand playfully pinches the inside of his arm. “Oh, quiet, you, I thought you were so tired you could hardly stand it?”

“I can hardly stand  _ you _ .”

“I think you will hardly be able to stand  _ tomorrow _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> etc etc twitter [@dreisang](https://twitter.com/dreisang)


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